


Interlude, in Sunshine

by Luthien



Series: Luthien Does Writer's Month 2019 [16]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Australia, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Australia, Christmas, F/M, Holiday Fling, Romance, holiday romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien
Summary: What it says on the tin.Prompt: summer.





	Interlude, in Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a companion piece to [Interlude, in Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20205970), which was the seventh story in the Aussie Coffee 'verse.
> 
> Thanks to Nire for looking this over, and general cheerleading.

Jaime awoke to the familiar sensation of a head pillowed against his chest. It probably shouldn't have felt familiar after only two nights together, but… there it was, and there was nothing he could do about it, even if he'd wanted to. The room was already warming up, and when he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see the summer sunshine streaming in through the bedroom window. It was morning, and probably late morning given the angle of the sun. Brienne was curled against his side, all nude, long-legged loveliness. She was still asleep.

He watched her face for a while, just because he could. Her features were so familiar now, and yet he felt as though he could spend at least another year cataloguing every freckle, learning the slopes and lines of nose and cheekbones, jaw and chin, trying to determine the exact shade of blue that lurked in the very depths of her eyes.

And then there was all the rest of Brienne. Her body, yes, he wouldn't deny that he wanted to keep exploring her from head to toe—including a fair bit of lingering in the middle—but the woman inside, her _self_, intrigued him even more. The woman who didn't pretend, who didn't want anything from him unless he persuaded and cajoled, and sometimes not even then. The woman who still wasn't sure about him, and this thing between them that had caught them both up in its thrall, despite agreeing to spend the rest of the week with him.

Brienne probably thought she hid her misgivings well, but her expressive features betrayed her every time. She had the exact opposite of a poker face. He could see the first stirrings of panic at a glance: the sparkle in her eyes, sunlight on the waves, turning suddenly cloudy, the tiny crease appearing between her brows, the infinitesimal tightening at the corners of her mouth. And then the other thought that was never far behind the panic, making her shoulders tense as she thought: this too shall pass, and before very much longer.

Jaime had few weapons against the voice talking inside Brienne's head in those moments. His main tactic was simply to kiss her, and if a kiss turned into something more, so much the better. He wanted to distract her, and she seemed more than willing to be distracted. Making love to her was like no sex he'd ever had before, as easy and intimate as it was desperate and needy. But just as good was to listen to her cry out because she simply couldn't _not _cry out, to know that those sounds were because of him, _for_ him…

He tried to hold back a groan as his erection thrust up against his belly, a little more than simple morning wood now. He shifted against the mattress as much as he could without disturbing the sleeping woman at his side.

He couldn't keep using sex that way, as a strategy. Well, he could, but eventually it wasn't going to be enough. Eventually Brienne was going to listen to that voice in her head, and get on that plane… unless he found a way to _make_ her stay.

But no, he couldn't do that. That was the sort of thing his father would do, forcing people into things whether they liked it or not. Trying to force Brienne to stay would just make it all pointless, anyway. Jaime needed to make Brienne _want _to stay. That's what he wanted, more than anything: for her to not just want him, but to want him _enough_.

Maybe the Christmas surprise he had planned would be enough to swing it. Maybe—

His phone buzzed on the bedside table. Jaime reached for it slowly, so as not to wake Brienne with any sudden movements. He held the phone in front of his face. There were a bunch of texts, all from Tyrion.

[Tyrion: _So when you told me that you and our dear Ms Tarth had decided to hang out together in Byron Bay for a few days - that was something of an understatement, wasn't it?_

Tyrion: _Are you ignoring me or are you asleep?_

Tyrion: _Have you looked at the front page of the SMH today?_

Tyrion: _You're definitely asleep. Or if you're not… Actually, I really don't want to know. You should look at the front page of the SMH, though. And soon._

Tyrion: _Jaime, I've waited two hours. It's nearly midday. If you don't pick up the damned phone right now, I'm going to call you and I don't CARE what I'm interrupting._

Jaime: _Im awake NOW_

Tyrion: _At last the dead awaken._

Jaime: _I had a busy night_

Tyrion: _I REALLY don't want to know._

Jaime: _What makes you think youre interrupting anything?_

Tyrion: _Have you seen the front page of the SMH today?_

Jaime: _No. Why?_

Tyrion: _http://smh.com.au_

Jaime: _shit_

Tyrion: _Something you want to share with me, brother? Or are you going to say that it's not what it looks like?Vertical mouth to mouth resuscitation, perhaps?_

Jaime: _…_

Jaime: _…_

Jaime: _…_

Jaime: _no_

Jaime:_ Not rn_

Jaime:_ It's complicated._

Tyrion:_ It looks pretty straightforward to me._

Jaime: _Tyrion. Just… don't. I'll tell you all of it when I see you._

Jaime:_ the important bits anyway._

Jaime:_ thanx for the headsup._

Tyrion:_ What are brothers for? No, don't answer that._

Tyrion:_ See you BOTH tomorrow._]

Jaime put down the phone. Shit. That picture of him and Brienne kissing in the street had made its way into the mainstream media. _The Sydney Morning Herald_ was as old and established as it was possible to be without being a Lannister newspaper. The SMH didn't usually bother with such tabloid fodder as this, but of course they would relish the chance to carry a picture like that of Tywin Lannister's son.

It always, _always_ came back to that: not being Jaime Lannister, but Tywin Lannister's son and heir.

That picture was going to mean more media attention, inevitably. But it also meant that other people, people who wouldn't have deigned to notice pap pictures on gossip sites, were going to see that picture now. Tyrion was the first, but it was highly unlikely that he was going to be the last.

Jaime let out a long sigh, and Brienne stirred against him. "Mmmph?" she asked, and Jaime felt her lips, butterfly light against his jaw, seeking and then finding his mouth.

He kissed her, there in the morning sunshine, not caring that she could open her eyes at any second and see the emotions that must be written all over his face. Let her see, let her know how he felt, how _much_ he felt. Half the rest of the world must have seen it by now, anyway.

Maybe that would be enough to persuade her to stay, the sight of him open and exposed and _sincere_. Maybe _he_ would be enough, in and of himself.

He knew he was kidding himself even before he finished the thought.

That just left the Christmas surprise. It was the only ace he had up his sleeve, the one opportunity he had to _show_ her that there were things worth staying for. Maybe she wouldn't stay for much longer than a week, but he would call it a win if she at least didn't go home just yet.

Brienne drew back. "What are you thinking about?" she asked.

"What gives you the idea that I'm thinking about anything?" Jaime said.

"You're usually more… focused on the task at hand," Brienne said.

He kissed her again, partly to show her that he could devote all his attention to her, and partly to stop her from asking any more leading questions.

He broke the kiss this time. "We should take a day off today," he murmured against her lips. "Just stay here and rest by the pool and gather our strength for tomorrow. I'll get lunch sent up to us."

"Okay," Brienne said, still sounding slightly sleepy but agreeable with it.

If only the question of her staying could be so easily decided.

**Author's Note:**

> The next story in this series will be a response to the prompt: first time. It will cover Brienne's first Christmas Day in Summer.


End file.
